


Responsible

by venomousxkiss



Category: HIM (Band), Viva La Bam RPF
Genre: And Bam's and Dunn's relationship cannot be replaced, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cheating, Crying, Divorce, Dunn is alive and Bam's best friend because I still can't believe he's actually gone, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting Back Together, M/M, Sad, Tears, The beginning of 2000's, This story takes place where they are still young
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-23 13:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13191087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venomousxkiss/pseuds/venomousxkiss
Summary: We had such a perfectly happy little family for five long years. We had everything anyone could have ever even dreamed of. We had a cozy villa in the countryside, far from the horrible razzle of metropolis. We had money and success via both of our careers. We had it all. You were my prince charming, you were everything I could have even wished for, and you we’re mine. Everything was so damn picture perfect and idyllic that it almost felt like a crime. But at the end of the day, I had nothing to complain about because I was happy, we were happy. And I’m not just saying that because every married couple is supposed to be happy. We were happy for real. Maybe it was a crime, and maybe that’s why everything ended up crumbling down.OR Ville and Bam have been married for years but now they have decided to go through a divorce.





	1. We had it all, yeah

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading

We had such a perfectly happy little family for five long years. We had everything anyone could have ever even dreamed of. We had a cozy villa in the countryside, far from the horrible razzle of metropolis. We had money and success via both of our careers. We had it all. You were my prince charming, you were everything I could have even wished for, and you we’re _mine._ Everything was so damn picture perfect and idyllic that it almost felt like a crime. But at the end of the day, I had nothing to complain about because I was happy, _we_ were happy. And I’m not just saying that because every married couple is supposed to be happy. We were happy for real. Maybe it _was_ a crime, and maybe that’s why everything ended up crumbling down.

Who has a pirate bar downstairs? Who has a skate park in the backyard? Who has a Lamborghini and a goddamn Hummer in the garage? Who has a world-famous rock star as a boyfriend, as a husband? I had. We had it all. We had a jukebox in the living room. An eight-foot-tall heartagram on the wall. A studio for your recordings. Friends and family who supported us no matter what. And above all that, we had each other.

I knew I could trust you with my heart. At least I always thought I could. Because now, after all those glamorous years we spent together, we are having a divorce.

\--

To be honest, I never saw it coming. I was completely and utterly head over heels in love with you. I would have taken a bullet for you, in a fucking heartbeat. I wouldn’t have even thought about it twice. I would have done anything for you. Anything.

Of course, we had those little arguments every now and then. It wasn’t like we didn’t sometimes fight over breakfast cereals or who gets to drive the pink four-wheeler, no. But hey, we were a married couple. Well, technically we still are until the next month. All married couples fight, right? But no matter how much we scuffled and yelled, tussled and battled, we always made up before we fell asleep. During those five years, I started to believe that you would never hurt me, not in all seriousness. You would never leave me. You would always be there for me, _just_ for me. Obviously, I was wrong.

Maybe I was a fool. Maybe I shouldn’t have trusted you as blindly as I did. Maybe I should have stuck on my original decision of never falling in love. With a damn rock star, even. Maybe, maybe, maybe. There are so many ‘maybe’s that I’ll go insane if I really start to think about all of them. But there is one thing I’m certain about. I shouldn’t have married you.

I should have never married you because after all, you’re just a man. You’re just like every other guy I met before, and every other guy I will meet after you. Yes, I _know_ I will find someone someday, and I also know he’ll be all the same. But it’s not that I’m going to hold on to my dream of the fairy tale love with you when there was no love there to begin with. I have come to realize that it was all fake. You’re just as selfish as every single one of them. You’re just as deceitful, just as traitorous, just as cold and cruel. You’re nothing special. I never thought men could be as cruel as women, but once again, I was wrong. I have lost my faith in people, my faith in life, my faith in love. Just because I made the mistake of falling in love. Again.

I know I’m being childish when I say this, but I will make sure you won’t get anything from me anymore. Not a single spoon, not a single dollar, not a single car, not my house, not my friends, nothing. A year ago, I would have given you every dollar I had, every Lamborghini I owned. I would have ripped my heart out of my chest and offered it to you on a silver tray. But now… I would give you nothing.

I didn’t even realize it at first, I didn’t notice how it all started to fall apart. I didn’t see how you started to drift away from me. And when I finally realized that we didn’t have sex anymore, we didn’t sleep in the same room nor did we do anything together, I didn’t realize I should be worried about. I thought it was just a phase, and that it would go away, sooner or later. I had seen it happen before. You would spend some time on your own and I would skate and spend time with my friends, doing random shit. When the time was right, you would come back to me. You would climb into my bed, _our_ bed, and snuggle with me. Wrap your arms around my waist and just simply fall asleep. And then, maybe the next day or the next week we would have the most fabulous sex with the excuse we hadn’t had any in a long time. I thought it was normal because we had gone through that phase almost every year we had been married. I thought everything was fine between the two of us.

That was until I learned that you had found better use for our marriage bed. You started to bring those girls, guys, friends, band members, strangers and even whores home with you. You fucked them in our bed, the same bed in which you once squirmed in pleasure beneath me. In which you made love to me, in which you taught me to love you right. To touch you just the way you liked, to whisper your name like it was the most precious word to ever slip out between my lips, to gasp and moan, to make you come in your pants right then and there. The same bed is now stained with the pleasure and the desire, the lust and betrayal of other human beings, other men, other women. I’m disgusted by you.

You didn’t even look at me when you walked by, holding hands with someone you never saw before and would never see afterwards. You fucked them, or they fucked you, I don’t even want to know which way around. You did it on purpose, you knowingly hurt me. You chose to cheat on me right in front of my eyes. I never thought you could be so cruel. I thought I knew you better. I can’t believe I could be so stupid.

You never came home sober when you had someone with you which was more than often. You were always drunk or high, I could tell it by the way you swayed and slurred, staggered and faltered. Told everyone you loved them so much that it literally hurt. Kissed them like you kissed me on our wedding day. I never wanted to hear you fuck them, so I usually put on my headphones, turned the volume up and sulked the rest of the evening, sometimes shedding a few tears, not that I would ever admit it. It would have been too much to hear you moan someone else’s name as you writhed in pleasure.

You even filmed all those sessions. How do I know that? you may ask. I found one of your tapes. Yes, one of _those_ tapes. You didn’t hide them well enough, I guess. There it stood, proud on the disk. ‘Jingle balls, part II’. I took the disk and even put it on the DVD player. I tried to watch it but in the last minute I had to withdraw. I probably would have already killed myself, had I seen you fuck someone else. I still have the tape, though. I thought it might become valuable in the future, no matter how painful it was to keep it. Who knows when I will need it.


	2. Gone with the sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ville goes back to Finland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

Ville

 

I opened the heartagram door that led to the hallway. I wasn’t drunk, I never was after those deadly boring nights out. It used to be fun when you came along with the group of your friends that I love from the bottom of my heart. It hasn’t been like that in months, maybe even years. But even though I haven’t been drunk in so long, I still couldn’t remember the name of my companion for tonight. I thought that the name wasn’t important in this matter, although I was sure that the other man knew mine.

I took the blonde’s hand in my own as I led him through the aisle towards the stairs. As we passed the living room, I saw you sitting on the couch. I made sure you saw us as I kissed the cheek of the other man, and flashed the blonde a sly smile. Then I looked back at where you had been sitting just a minute ago, and noticed that the place was now empty. My heart dropped.

I sighed, and led the other man to the bedroom. The door stayed closed for two hours. You didn’t come to open it. You didn’t say a word, you _never_ did. You didn’t ask him to leave. Not once did you ask me to stop. I wanted you to yell at me for bringing strangers into our bed. I wanted you to grab my shoulders and shake my naked body until I was close to pass out. I wanted, _needed_ to see that my actions had _consequences_. I wanted you to tell me that it was _not okay_ to cheat on you.

But you never did.

You would have let me have sex with ten guys in front of your eyes. When I realized that I could do whatever I wanted to with whoever I wanted to, something broke inside me. You didn’t give a shit.

That night I came home alone, and I came earlier than usually, not that you noticed. I cried all night, eyes red and bloodshot. But even though I had seen how indifferently you acted, I still wished that you would have opened the fucking door, you would have heard my sobs and seen that all I had ever wanted was you to take me into your arms. I was so lost. I wanted to find my way back home, back into your arms.

No matter how much I wished, the door stayed closed.

We didn’t talk to each other anymore. We didn’t touch, we didn’t look each other in the eyes. We didn’t have dinners together. We didn’t spend time together. We had slowly become strangers to each other. Strangers who still lived together.

That was until the morning you told me that you wanted me to find a new place to live in. It was the first thing you said to me in fifty-eight days. Yes, for fuck’s sake, I have been counting days. That is how inconceivably desperate I had become. The tears formed in my eyes, but I didn’t want you to know how much it hurt. Maybe I thought you’d laugh at me, I don’t know. See? I was fucking lost. I couldn’t let the love of my life notice my goddamn tears. So, I turned away from you, and said that I would try to find a place as soon as possible.

Nothing else was said. You left me as you left the room, once and for all. A lonely tear rolled down my cheek.

What the fuck had I done?

\--

I still wonder what would have happened had I never brought those people home. Had I never held their hands, never kissed their cheeks. If only I had just told you that I missed you, that I wanted you back to me. That I wanted you to stop working so much, stop spending all your free time skating with your friends like at the time before we got married. Sometimes I play with the thought of me telling you about my feelings, just like always before. Would we still be together? Why did it feel so much harder this time around to talk to you?

I know that the men and the women I brought home weren’t the real reason behind our separation. But sometimes I think that maybe, just maybe we could have been able to work it out, to settle whatever the dispute we had, like so many times before, if I only hadn’t brought those people home. And then again, something tells me that it wouldn’t have been so easy. I feel like something was different this time. It wasn’t like the other fights, the other arguments we had had. Because this time, we really didn’t have an argument at all. We just drifted apart in unbearable silence.

What would have happened had you seen my tears? If you saw how much it hurt to hear your words, to hear you say that it was better for me to move out. That’s something I regret even more than bringing those people home. But then again, maybe you knew. Maybe you knew and just didn’t care. Maybe that’s what was different this time.

I came back to Finland. I had nothing left in US now that you had asked me to leave, so I decided it was the best thing to do. Another thing I regret… Back then I thought it was best to give you some space. But now that I’ve had time to think about everything, I’ve realized it was the worst thing I could have done. There’s no way I can prove you that I care. I gave up on us.

Now it has been a month since I last saw you. Three months since I last talked to you, excluding what was said in the morning I left the Castle Bam. More than half a year since we had sex last time. I miss you. I miss you like hell. And I want nothing more than to have you back.

I should go get a flight to Pennsylvania and come talk to you. I can’t just leave everything without a word. Well, I already did but… you know what I mean. I’m a n’idiot. It will always haunt me if I won’t talk to you before I move on. If I will ever be able to move on. I grab my phone and dial the number of airport but before I make it to the green button, my phone starts to ring.


	3. Single man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading

Bam

 

“Dude, that is like the second Fazer’s blue in what? An hour?” the redhead pointed out as he stepped into the living room where his old mate was sitting on the large couch, cheeks stained brown from all the chocolate. Something seemed so different in the house, he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was that made the whole castle feel almost unfamiliar to him.

“Third,” Bam corrected, and took yet another bite of the bar. He didn’t even bother turning to face his best mate as the said man entered the room as he was busy staring at the wall in front of him. A wall that was too blank to be Bam’s wall, Dunn thought, and suddenly the realization came to him. It didn’t feel like the Castle Bam anymore because all the pictures of Him and the lead singer Ville Valo had been ripped out of the walls. As he continued to look around, he noticed that he couldn’t find a single heartagram. The lack of all the HIM stuff was so painfully obvious that he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realized it earlier. _So this is final_ , he thought to himself.

“Care to tell me what happened?” Dunn pointed at the chocolate wraps lying on the table and sat down next to his friend.

“I found the place he used to keep those at,” Bam nodded towards the still unopened chocolates lying between him and the other man, “Best chocolate in the world, straight from Finland.” His tone was emotionless, and he was avoiding the redhead’s gaze. Ryan took a deep breath before opening his mouth.

“I do know where Fazer comes from but what I meant is what made you eat all those?”

He tried to take the chocolate from the skater and only then Bam raised his eyes to meet his, squeezing the bar against his chest so that it couldn’t be taken away from him. Dunn tried to hold it back as he was more than aware of the seriousness of this moment, but a little chuckle escaped his lips anyway. It wasn’t his fault that Bam was acting like a four-year-old whose favorite toy was being stolen.

“I am a single man again,” he announced indifferently, completely ignoring his mate’s chuckles. He crammed the rest of the bar into his mouth and then threw the paper away. Once that was all done, he grabbed yet another bar of chocolate. “Cheers to that.”

 “But you broke up with Ville four weeks ago,” the redhead noted confused, not quite understanding why his friend was overeating like this. A month during which Bam hadn’t given the tiniest sign that the break-up had affected him in any way. And then everything turned upside down overnight, and the old Bam was replaced with this wreck of a human being.

“So I did,” Bam declared, “but now it’s official.” Suddenly he stood up from the couch and went to leave the room since apparently, he wasn’t in the mood of talking, but Dunn grabbed his wrist and more or less forced him to stay. He needed some answers.

“What do you mean? You finally called him?” Ryan roughly pulled Bam back to the couch and then let go of his hand. Bam snorted, crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head as a ‘no’.

“Did he call you?” the slightly older man raised his eyebrow, still trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Bam’s recent actions made no sense to him.

“Nope.”

“Then what the hell are you talking about?” he almost yelled frustrated. Bam flinched at the tone of his voice but he couldn’t read the skater’s expression. Lately Bam had sure learned to hide his emotions, which couldn’t have been too much of a good thing. Had it not been for all those ripped posters lying in the fire place, and the piles of chocolate all around him, Dunn still wouldn’t have known that his friend wasn’t exactly doing well.

“They heard Ape and Raab talking about it,” Bam bit his nails, acting bored even when it was apparent to everyone that he was more than upset about the matter.

“They…?” Ryan asked confused.

“The press,” Bam stated, rolling his eyes. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know. It’s all over the fucking news. ‘Bam Margera is filing for a divorce!’” He threw the newest tabloid from the coffee table to Dunn, who quickly found the page Bam had been talking about.

“ _The Jackass star and the former professional skateboarder Bam Margera is filing for a divorce. His five-year long marriage to one of the most successful Finnish rock stars Ville Valo from the band HIM seems to be over. According to some of the closest friends and family of Mr. Margera, the couple has been living on the different sides of the world for the last month._

_‘I can’t really talk about it since even I don’t know if the rumor of them getting divorced is true. But it’s utterly heartbreaking to see those two men in this kind of a situation since they always loved each other very much. There was never a doubt about it. I know it won’t be easy, but I wish they would work it all out,’ says April Margera, the mother of Bam Margera. It’s obvious this matter is painful and delicate to Mr. Margera since he himself hasn’t said anything about it. We also haven’t been able to reach Mr. Valo to confirm or deny the rumor.”_

Bam flinched as he heard the name of his ex-lover, ex-idol and ex-husband, but he continued to act like none of it mattered to him. Well, at least no one could blame him for the lack of trying.

“Why do you even care?” Dunn asked after reading the page twice. There was nothing in the text that he didn’t already know. He had been there when Bam had left the divorce papers three days ago, and that’s why he couldn’t understand why Bam reacted this way. They had all known this was coming when Bam had asked Ville to move out.

“Because everyone is fucking talking about me,” Bam groaned frustrated.

“You’ve always loved the attention from the media!”

“Not when it’s about my personal life!” he yelled and stood up. The walls he had tried so hard to keep up started to come crashing down. He knew that Ryan was already aware of his true feelings but nonetheless he tried to calm himself down. He refused to reveal it to himself that he still cared.

“You filmed your wedding and sold it to MTV!” Now Dunn had stood up, too.

“It’s not the same,” Bam whispered, quickly batting away the tears that had started to form in his eyes. He bit his lower lip, wishing that the other man hadn’t noticed anything.

“Yeah, it’s not the same because,” Dunn said softly, “you still love him.”

“I don’t,” Bam insisted. Ryan could tell that he was lying.

“You do.”

“I don’t. You know I can’t love anyone like _that_ anymore.” The amount of sorrow in Bam’s voice broke Dunn’s heart.

“Bam. I don’t want to argue with you, not at all. I’m you’re mate, right? But you should remember that he’s not _her,_ ” he said and gave Bam a manly hug. “Give him a chance, will you?” he whispered in the air. Bam weakly shook his head but instantly stopped the movement, suddenly getting a weird feeling in his stomach. Soon he found himself curled around the toilet bowl, half-eaten chocolate bar making a sound as he dropped it onto the tile floor. The next thirty minutes were spent emptying his stomach from all the food he had stuffed his mouth. Expired. Of fucking course.

This was just his luck.


	4. Ville Valo, I can be your plaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!

Ville

  
An anonymous call. Ville fiddled with the phone in his hand, listening to the obnoxious tune echoing inside the walls of his rather empty tower. He wasn’t sure whether he should pick up the call or not, considering that he hadn’t been waiting for a call.

His hands shook ever so lightly as he continued to stare at the ringing phone. His breathing sped up. He knew he shouldn’t have bothered anymore, but he couldn’t help it. The feeling was still there.

And the goddamn butterflies. Could it… could it really be Bam?

Suddenly he forgot all about the ringing phone, remembering a certain time in the past instead. It had happened at the time before they had gotten married. Ville had been on a tour for the last month, and naturally he had been missing his crush on the other side of the world like hell. Bam had promised to call him that day, and that’s why he had been sitting next to the phone all day, so that he wouldn’t miss the call. Ville remembered how he had been practically bouncing around the tour bus, and at the end of the day Linde had gotten so annoyed that he had taken the phone away from Ville. He had had to apologize _twice_ to get it back. And when Bam finally had called him, he had been too excited to pick up the call. He also had been devastated once the ringing had stopped.

Luckily Bam had called him again after a few minutes of cursing and feeling blue. The butterflies had been there, just like they were right now, flickering and fluttering inside his stomach. It felt like he was in love for the first time in his life, and it felt amazing.

Ville couldn’t wait to make things right, to get his husband back and to start afresh. To love him again, to feel his arms around his waist because that’s where they belonged.

He wouldn’t move on. He knew he couldn’t. He loved Bam.

“Bammie?” Ville let out a thrilled sigh as he waited for the other man to say something, anything. But soon his face dropped as he learned that it wasn’t him on the other end of the line. Instead, it was yet another fangirl who had somehow gotten his number in her hands, one way or another. They had stopped calling him years and years ago, when HIM had broken up and he had moved to the United States, when he had become a real housewife of Philadelphia like his friends had jokingly said.

Ville sighed again, this time frustrated. He thought that he had finally gone insane. There was no way Bam would have possibly called him. He had been the one to ask him to move out, after all. Ville couldn’t believe how much of a fool he had been, getting his hopes up that suddenly everything would have been okay between the two of them, and that Bam would have ever called to ask him to come home.

He was about to hang up when the girl suddenly said something unexpected, something that made him stop whatever he was planning to do.

“Hey Ville,” she said excited. “Now that you’re finally divorcing, I was wondering if you needed someone to console you,” she cooed with a voice that Ville guessed was meant to sound seductive but failed miserably.  He sat down on the edge of his bed as his legs started to give in, listening to his heart’s agitated beat. Wait a minute. Now that he was getting _what_?!

 

Suddenly, there were millions of thoughts running through his head, all at the same time, and that gave him a major headache. Only after a long while was he able to speak again.

“That was the worst fucking joke I have ever heard in my life,” he replied coldly, and then finally hung up. The butterflies, they had all been cruelly murdered by a stranger who had absolutely no rights to destroy their lives, already short and fragile.

His heart pounded in his chest. His hands were all sweaty. His throat was dry and suddenly it had become hard to swallow. He was shocked. Confused, upset, stunned. Utterly horrified.

He closed his eyes. It was warm in the tower, but he was trembling and shuddering anyway. Where the hell had that come from? Who was she anyway? How did she get his number? Ville made a mental note to change his number as soon as possible. He didn’t want to receive a single prank call like that anymore, not after this one that had almost given him a heart attack.

But…

What if it wasn’t a joke? What if… What if…

No.

…Or yes? Oh lord. He was a fucking mess.

\--

 

Apparently, he must have fallen asleep at some point because the next time he woke up, he found himself curled up with the fluffy carpet even though he clearly remembered that he had been sitting on the edge of his bed just a while ago. It was already dark outside. As he glanced at the watch on his wrist right below the fresh, red line, he learned that it was 2 A.M.

He sat up, the headache from earlier still present. He picked up the phone again, there was still the number of the airport on the screen, staring back at him. For a while, he wondered if he should still book the flight and wait until he got to see Bam face to face. It was strange just how fast the night really changed. But there was only one word echoing in his head and he _needed_ to know.

A tear of fear rolled down his cheek as his terribly shaky fingers dialed a number he will probably never be able to swipe off his memory, even if he wanted to. A number he had last dialed two weeks ago to make things right, but no one had been there to pick up back then. Bam’s number.

It ringed… and ringed… and ringed.

His heart beat faster… and faster, and faster, until he was afraid it would explode if it kept pounding harder much longer. It was hard to hear his own thoughts but scantily he succeeded.

He was trying to reach Bam all in vain. It was only 7 P.M. where Bam lived, so he knew the man wasn’t even sleeping yet. The sense of disappointment creeped into his heart. He wasn’t going to answer his call. There was another tear rolling down his face. He was such a loser for crying over nothing, and he knew that.

“Bam,” a cold voice stated, and Ville winced before letting the rest of the tears burst out in full force. He wasn’t even trying to hold it back because he had figured that that had been the reason why they were in this situation to begin with. Well, one of the reasons, at least.

Bam had picked up the phone. He sounded so calm and indifferent, though, that it broke Ville into millions of pieces. And yet it warmed his heart to hear the voice he hadn’t been able to in a long time. Even if it was just his name, pronounced emotionless, it was still his voice, the one voice he adored the most.

“Is it true?” Ville sobbed, unable to keep his voice stable. “Is it fucking true?!” He knew that Bam knew he was crying, but there was no sign that he cared about his sobs. Throughout the call he had this racking, harrowing feeling of which he desperately wanted to get rid of but there was no escape. He took some quick breaths, trying but pitifully failing to calm down.

“There’s no reason for us to be married anymore. So… I guess I’ll see you in court,” Bam replied, obviously right away knowing what Ville was talking about. Before he could bring himself to say anything, Bam added, “Just so that you know, it’s a fault divorce.”

“What?!” Ville squealed, embarrassed by the inhuman sound he had let out. “What the fuck is that…” he mumbled to himself.

“Did you really think it was okay to cheat on me?” the other man asked disinterested and he could hear a small laugh. Great. That’s just fine. Bam was laughing but Ville cried a little more. _You have no idea how much I used to wish it wasn’t okay…_

“But I-,” Ville started to explain but was rudely interrupted by Bam. He didn’t even know what he was trying to say for all he could concentrate on was the feeling of terror inside him. All he wanted was for them to make up and get over it, not get a divorce and move on with their lives without the other.

“Save it, Valo. I don’t want to hear it. You committed adultery, end of story,” Bam stated and as soon as he was finished, the line was dead. Ville stared out the window next to his bed, not really seeing anything. The tears made his vision blurry. Even the last bit of his heart was completely shattered, and there was more he couldn’t yet understand. Fault divorce… What was that supposed to mean?

\--

Ville didn’t believe in a lot of things. He didn’t believe that a marriage should end just like that, especially when they both had sworn in their vows that they would always be together, come hail, rain or storm. But then again, he also had never truly believed in marriage either before Bam had stormed into his life.

Five years ago, they had made a promise. They had stood right there in front of the priest and promised to love each other through thick and thin. He had thought that their love was stronger, but it had turned out to be just as fragile as an unstable psyche. They had promised to stay with each other no matter what, but now Bam was claiming that Ville committed adultery, and the only person he could blame for it was right there, staring back at him from the misty glass of the bedroom window.

Two hours passed by, Ville not even noticing. The past, the present, the future all mixed together in a huge blur inside his head. What they used to be, what they could have become in the future. What they were now. He was living in the middle of fog and haze, heartbroken, undone and beyond redemption. He had called Migé, his best friend from the time he was still in the band, and asked him to figure out what fault divorce meant. Basically, Bam was claiming that Ville was responsible for their divorce. The spouse without fault, meaning Bam, would end up having a larger portion of the marital property.

Just a few hours ago he had made the decision. He hadn’t wanted to move on. He had wanted his husband back. Now the decision was all scattered, just like the pieces of what-used-to-be-his-heart, and replaced by confusion. Nothing made sense to him.

Why would Bam give up on him so easily? He hadn’t even fought to keep what was his… No. That’s where he was wrong. In fact, Bam _was_ fighting for the things that are his – the house, the money, the Hummer and the goddamn garage. But he wasn’t fighting for _Ville,_ so Ville couldn’t help but wonder whether the things that money can buy were really that much more important to Bam than he was. He knew Bam wasn’t like that, not in reality. He cared about people, not money.

But then why?

He was sick of crying. He was sick of living in this misery and it really hadn’t even begun yet. He was sick of not having Bam by his side. He was sick of all the lies.

Lies…

Suddenly he knew exactly what he would do. That was the only way he could pick up the pieces of his heart, or at least the only way he could think of right now. He would prove Bam his innocence. Would it make a difference? He didn’t know. He didn’t know but he had to try. He owed that to Bam, to himself and to their marriage. He wasn’t doing it for the sake of dollars, not for the sake of Lamborghini. He was doing it for the sake of their violated, neglected and at the moment so-close-to-be-failed marriage.


End file.
